


First Time

by katsudonfemmefatale



Series: 30 Day NSFW Challenge (Victuuri) [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 30 Day NSFW Challenge, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, POV Katsuki Yuuri, POV Multiple, POV Victor Nikiforov, Top Victor, Top Victor Nikiforov, Vanilla, Virgin Katsuki Yuuri, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9460472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsudonfemmefatale/pseuds/katsudonfemmefatale
Summary: Yuuri has been living in Russia with Viktor for a fortnight now. Life is blissful, and one night Viktor looks so beautiful Yuuri just can't stay away..."Viktor looked at him with wide crystal blue eyes for a few moments, before they narrowed and he moved his face in toward Yuuri. He held his position right in front of his fiancé, his lips slightly parted, his eyes searching Yuuri’s face for hesitation, and Yuuri could feel his breath on his upper lip. When Yuuri didn’t flinch away, Viktor leaned in and kissed him fully."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's late! Wasn't very well last night and couldn't finish what I started :(  
> Alas, it is here now! Hope it fulfils your expectations.  
> These seem to be getting longer and longer! Oops!
> 
> I love these boys. I always enjoy reading fics about their first time, and it was nice to write, too! <3
> 
> Thanks to the people who have left lovely comments on my other stuff. I love you all! And mega thanks to those correcting my small amounts of Russian/Japanese, as Google is my unreliable translator!

“ _Katsuki_! You need to work on that Lutz!”

A gruff voice called out to Yuuri from across the St Petersburg rink.

“Hey! You’re not _his_ coach, old man! Why don’t you let the piggy’s _own_ coach deal with his shitty skating?!”

Yurio came to a swift halt on the other side of the rink, yelling over at Yakov Feltsman at the top of his voice. The other skaters were used to it, and didn’t pay attention. Even Viktor was currently rink side, leaning on the barrier and engrossed in conversation with Mila as she tied her skates.

“Arigato, Yakov!” Yuuri called over, causing the other Yuri to clench his fists in anger.  
Viktor had been right about Yakov. He was short-tempered and cold and not very encouraging, but he was a fantastic coach that genuinely wanted his skaters to do their best.

Yuuri wasn’t putting much effort right now anyway, with Viktor not watching. He lazily glided through his programme, still in the early stages of trying to memorise it. It was difficult to concentrate anyway, what with his coach’s figure at the side of the rink, bending over to lean on his elbows, leaning away from Yuuri. His gold skates shining, his long-sleeved shirt tight over his shoulder blades, the slight bend in his knee accentuating the way his sweatpants…

“ _Watch where you’re GOING!”_

The short, blond figure shoved at him and Yuuri fell dramatically, skidding across the ice. He had been paying too much attention to the side of the rink to notice that he was gliding straight into Yurio’s path.

This time Viktor turned, as did everyone else.

“ _Yuri Plisetsky!!_ ”

Yakov yelled in anger, scolding the boy.

Yuuri got up quickly, brushing the ice that was now dusting his outfit away. He gave a slight smile, to no-one in particular, to indicate that he was fine. Since moving to Russia, it had become more and more evident to him that Yurio’s anger was not borne out of frustration toward him, but towards Viktor. Yurio seemed to have the same veil of anger around him that Yakov had, so desperate for those he knew to succeed that it came out like contempt.

“Yuuri!”

Viktor’s voice sing-songed across the ice as he waved at his fiancé with a wide smile.

“Let’s call it a day, da?”

Yuuri smiled, skating gleefully toward the man he loved.

 

————————————

 

“You are okay?”

Yuuri walked peacefully, the icy wind blowing through his hair and causing his breath to fog. He was lost in concentration, wanting to memorise every slab on the pavement, every fragment of ice settled on the river, every streetlight that blinked on through the dusk.  
He hadn’t realised it would be so beautiful here.  
It was so much colder than Hasetsu, but he enjoyed it. It was a welcoming, dry cold like that of the rink. Everywhere reminded him of being on the ice.  
Yuuri fantasised about how beautiful it would be for all of the roads and paths in St Petersburg to freeze over, and he would skate through them blissfully, soaking in the architecture and beauty of the city.

“Yuuri?”

Viktor’s worried voice cut through the fantasy. Yuuri smiled up at him, questioningly.

“I asked if you were okay? That was quite a fall. I’ll be having words with Yurio tomorrow.”

Viktor’s brows furrowed in that adorable way they did when he tried to resolve a problem alone in his mind. Yuuri knew he would be picturing how to go about telling off the boy, when deep down Viktor saw him like a brother and wanted to protect him.

“I’m fine! It’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Viktor interlaced their fingers and Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

Yuuri blushed, and he kept his eyes down to the pavement as he smiled, knowing Viktor would be side-eyeing him, revelling in his reaction. Yuuri knew that even after all this time, Viktor enjoyed being able to provoke such a cute reaction from his fiancé, and took the opportunity to whenever he could.

“Yakov is a great coach, but as your _actual_ coach, Yuuri, I can tell you that your Lutz is much improved.”

Yuuri turned to him, beaming. Viktor _had_ been watching him. He didn’t say anything, sure that his joy would speak for itself. They continued to walk through the icy city, hand in hand, until home.

_Their home._

 

————————————

 

The two men entered the flat and Makkachin came bounding up to Yuuri instantly. Yuuri knelt to give him fuss as Viktor removed his coat and scarf, filled with exuberance at the warmth that living with a dog once again provided.  
After allowing Yuuri to ruffle the soft fur on his head for a few moments, Makkachin padded back to his bed, panting happily, and Yuuri began to take off his own coat and scarf.  
Viktor walked over to the fridge and pulled out two beers, before opening them both and leaning back on the kitchen counter. He took a long swig from the bottle as Yuuri made his way over to grab his.

When Yuuri had first stepped foot in Viktor’s flat two weeks ago, he nearly had a panic attack. It was _beautiful._ Viktor’s decor was modern, simple and clean, expensive. His flat had high ceilings and intricate detailing, with massive windows that let in so much light looking down over the gorgeous city, and polished original wooden floors. Yuuri’s stomach had dropped, thinking back to the room his family had given Viktor in the inn, with its dark walls, traditional tatami and old, breezy windows. Yuuri was sure Viktor had never slummed it like that before, even taking into account the expensive furniture Viktor had provided for himself.  
It took Yuuri a few days for the embarrassment to settle, and longer still for him to accept that this is where _he_ lived now. Viktor hadn’t just invited him to _stay_ , Viktor had asked him to come and live with him, to move in with him, to be with him every day. He had cleared out half of the wardrobe, drawers in the bathroom, and even bought traditional Japanese crockery and chopsticks for the kitchen to make Yuuri feel more at home. In the first few days, Viktor had looked flustered, asking Yuuri at every turn if he liked this particular piece of art, or would he prefer to change the sofa, or did this colour scheme work in the bathroom. He was intent from the get-go to make it _their_ home they shared together.  
When Yuuri unpacked his clothes, he hung them in the wardrobe neatly and then just stood, staring. It felt strangely intimate for their clothing to be side by side, to be touching, sharing the space. This thought played on his mind for several minutes on the first day, before he turned and was confronted by the bed.  
Viktor and Yuuri had slept in close proximity before. In Barcelona, their beds were practically pushed together, and Yuuri was sure that their hands had brushed more than once as one or the other turned in their sleep. But Viktor lived in a one-bedroom flat, and he had asked Yuuri not as his student, but as his fiancé, as his boyfriend, to live with him. Yuuri wasn’t sure how he had gone up until the day of actually moving in with him to think about the sleeping situation. Viktor’s bed… no, _their_ bed… couldn’t have been more different to what Yuuri was used to. His bed at home was a small single with an uncomfortable mattress, not unlike the one that he had occupied in his dorm room with Phichit. The most comfortable beds Yuuri got to sleep in where that of plush hotels, where sometimes he would even be able to get a double to himself. But _this_ … this was a double, but it was to be shared by the two of them. Yuuri looked at the imposing iron four-poster bed, which looked so inviting with its plush pillows and gorgeous Egyptian cotton sheets, and swallowed. He was unsure if Viktor would place some form of expectation on their relationship now they shared a bed, after all, they had yet to… be intimate.  
But as Viktor was wont to do, he surprised Yuuri. When they got into bed, they would flick through their phones, they would talk, they would fall asleep. Most nights, Viktor would lean over and softly kiss Yuuri’s forehead, whispering “spokoynoy nochi”, and rolling over to sleep. He didn’t place any expectations on Yuuri, and Yuuri knew he was trying his best to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

It had worked. It was now a couple of weeks later, and Yuuri had gotten into their routine. They ran, they practiced, they walked, they ate, sometimes they went out in the evening, they talked, they watched TV, they slept. Yuuri became comfortable in Viktor’s flat… no, _their_ flat (he must stop doing that)… and revelled in the domesticity of it all.  
Before, everything had been about skating with Yuuri. He hadn’t placed any emphasis on any other parts of his life. At 23, he hadn’t even taken the time to think about relationships, or even his sexuality, let alone what he would do once his skating career was over. Now, it was all Viktor. Just one year later at 24, he had a path… he had a future, he had a home, he had a fiancé, he was - as it turned out - very gay, he had a dog, he lived in Russia, he had… a home. Not his parent’s home. _Their_ home.

“Thanks”, Yuuri said as he made his way over to the kitchen, but just as he was placing the bottle to his lips, Viktor placed his back down and grabbed Yuuri by the hips.

“You were beautiful today, lyubov moya”, he said lovingly, before placing a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.

 

————————————

 

Later that night, they sat on the couch holding hands, watching TV and drinking their second beers. Viktor had helpfully set the TV so that English subtitles were on, but given that English was Yuuri’s second language, he still struggled to follow sometimes. On this particular evening he had lost the plot of the detective show a long time ago, but Viktor seemed particular interested, so he had allowed himself to stay there on the sofa, slyly watching Viktor’s face instead of the screen.

This was a side of Viktor that Yuuri knew nobody else got to see. He was watching intently, a serious look plastered across his face, his right elbow propped up on the arm of the sofa with his fingers placed languidly on his brow. He was stunning. There was no pretence here, none of the Viktor that had to _be_ what he was expected to be… just Viktor, at home, with his partner and his dog, relaxed.  
Yuuri couldn’t help it. He leaned over the sofa and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Viktor’s eyes widened as he turned to Yuuri, completely shocked. Yuuri hadn’t kissed him before. Viktor knew that Yuuri was shy, and given the fact that PDAs weren’t always welcome in Japan, and that Yuuri had never been in a relationship before, the few times that they had kissed it was Viktor who initiated it.  
Yuuri’s cheeks burned at the thought of what he had just done. He was embarrassed, like the time he had poked at Viktor’s parting in his hair at the rink in Hasetsu, but he didn’t move.

“Yuuri?”

Viktor looked at him with wide crystal blue eyes for a few moments, before they narrowed and he moved his face in toward Yuuri. He held his position right in front of his fiancé, his lips slightly parted, his eyes searching Yuuri’s face for hesitation, and Yuuri could feel his breath on his upper lip. When Yuuri didn’t flinch away, Viktor leaned in and kissed him fully.

Viktor’s right hand moved up to Yuuri’s face, and he cupped his cheek lovingly. The kiss was deep, somehow full of love and lust at the same time. They had kissed before, and yet every single time Yuuri could hardly believe it was happening. He licked at Viktor’s lips hungrily, then pushed him back on the sofa, straddling him and taking control.

Viktor allowed it, and his hands moved to Yuuri’s hips. He allowed his fiancé to kiss him and take control of the pace. Yuuri was thankful. He swallowed down the anxiety that was building in his brain, knowing that this is what he wanted, that Viktor was his and only his, and that he wanted to keep moving forward in their relationship.

Yuuri had been fantasising about Viktor for years in secret. He had thought about him in _that_ way, he had touched himself with Viktor’s face firmly in mind. When arriving in Japan, Viktor was extremely forward from day one, and although he knew deep down that all he could ever want was to touch Viktor, he was so overcome by the idea that his idol was going to be his coach that he somehow couldn’t bear to be near him at the same time.  
When Viktor had kissed him, when Yuuri had been made explicitly aware of how Viktor felt about him, when Viktor had decided to let the world know that he was not just Yuuri’s coach, that he was in love with him, Yuuri had still backed away somewhat. Yuuri felt that if he allowed himself to start kissing Viktor, he would never stop. Those thoughts ran through his mind now, and they hadn’t changed… he wanted to stay locked in this moment forever, looking down at the gorgeous man he was kissing.

Yuuri felt a hardness press against his inner thigh and his stomach dropped as blood rushed to his own groin. He remained kissing Viktor, but opened his eyes slightly. Viktor was blushing, his eyes creased, seemingly fully aware and worried about what was happening.  
Yuuri pulled away.  
Viktor scrunched his face apologetically.

“Prosti, Yuuri.”

Viktor spoke in barely a whisper, and his world looked like it had come crashing down around him. Yuuri was confused. Viktor looked so vulnerable. Where was the Viktor that caressed his hand and begged to know everything about him, where was the Viktor that tried to push into his bedroom door suggesting they slept together, where was the _“nobody in the whole world knows your true Eros, Yuuri. I hope you can show me”_?  
And then suddenly, Yuuri understood.  
Viktor had been trying so hard to meet Yuuri where he was that he had suppressed all of his own feelings. He had waited until Yuuri found his own Eros instead of forcing it out of him, he had waited until Yuuri showed his love for Viktor on the ice before Viktor responded in kind by kissing him, he had waited for Yuuri to make a decision about his own career instead of forcing him in a direction, he had waited this long for Yuuri to _want_ to kiss him, to touch him, that he felt that his body reacting was intruding on Yuuri’s decision.

Yuuri stood and held out his hand.

“Let’s go to bed.”

 

————————————

 

The two men entered the bedroom wordlessly.

Viktor clicked the door shut and stood, awaiting direction. It was the quietest Yuuri thought he had ever seen Viktor Nikiforov. He always seemed to have something to say. Yuuri delighted in it, the same way he had when he thought to himself, _“I wonder what Viktor would think if I made the last jump a flip?”_

He looked up at Viktor… beautiful Viktor… and placed his hands on his shoulders. He raised onto the balls of his feet to gain height, and kissed him. Viktor’s hands wrapped lightly around Yuuri’s waist, and he once again let Yuuri set the pace of the kiss.  
Yuuri’s tongue pushed at Viktor’s lips and he parted them, allowing him in. Yuuri stroked Viktor’s fringe, moving it out of his face as he turned his head to kiss him deeper, before sliding his hands down Viktor’s body and resting them on his hips.  
He felt Viktor shift his groin away, but Yuuri grabbed his hips possessively now, grinding both of their clothed growing lengths together.

Viktor moaned into Yuuri’s mouth, and even behind closed lids he felt his eyes roll back in his head in pleasure. Yuuri began sliding his right hand away from Viktor’s hip, across the taught muscles of his stomach, and down over his trousers. He wrapped his fingers around the hardness he found there, surprised at the girth.

“Yuuri, what are you-?”

Viktor began to question against Yuuri’s lips, but Yuuri was now rubbing Viktor’s length and kissing at the corners of his mouth greedily, halting his query.

Viktor moved his hands up to Yuuri’s shoulders and gently pushed him away.

“Yuuri, please, listen.”

Yuuri stood, wide-eyed behind his glasses, panic brewing.

“I love you. I can’t deny it, I’ve _wanted_ you for so long… but Yuuri, I need to know you are ready. If this is what you want, I might not be able to hold myself back. But I need you to tell me that you are ready… that this is what you want.”

And there was that vulnerable look again.

“V-Viktor…”

Yuuri began, stammering. He had never exactly been good with words, but Viktor needed to hear… he needed to know…

“I’ve never done this before… but… I love you. I love you, Viktor. I _want_ you. It’s okay so long as it’s you. _You_ are what I want, Vitya.”

Yuuri had barely gotten the last few words out before Viktor rushed toward him, cupping his face and kissing him deeply and passionately. Yuuri kissed him back in kind, moaning.  
They broke away, staring into each other’s eyes for a second, before diving back to each other’s lips. Their kisses were hurried now, hungry, wanting… they moaned breathily between touches, their hands roaming all over each other. Viktor caught hold of Yuuri’s left hand and interlaced their fingers, then began kissing away from Yuuri’s lips… across his face… down his jaw… along his neck. He sucked lightly, and Yuuri’s hips bucked. He was uncomfortably hard now. He loved his man so much… he loved him… he wanted him…  
Yuuri’s right hand stroked up Viktor’s thigh and he felt Viktor exhale, moaning slightly into his neck.

“Viktor, please…”

Yuuri didn’t need to finish the question. Viktor grabbed Yuuri’s hands and kissed him again, stepping backwards, pulling Yuuri towards the bed.  
Yuuri allowed himself to be guided to the side of the bed, then moved his mouth back away from this kiss.

“I don’t… I don’t know what I’m meant to be doing…” He said, apologetically.

Viktor pushed back in to kiss him, and turned him using his hips so that he could push him down onto the bed. Viktor crawled over him, moving his face in close.

“We go at your pace, Yuuri. You tell me to stop, I stop. I want this to be perfect for you. Would you like me keep going?”

“Y-yes” Yuuri mumbled, overwhelmed by how considerate Viktor was.

Viktor moved in, sliding his tongue into Yuuri’s mouth. He kissed him, encircling their tongues delicately, then nibbled on his lower lip. He returned his attention to Yuuri’s neck and peppered kisses along it as he slid his hand under Yuuri’s shirt and his fingertips sailed over Yuuri’s toned abdomen. He found a nipple and gently pushed over it with the pad of his thumb, causing it to instantly erect.  
He sat up slightly, straddling his fiancé, and pulled lightly at the hem of Yuuri’s shirt, silently questioning if it was okay to remove it. Yuuri sat slightly, indicating that it was, and Viktor pulled it gently over his head and cast it to the floor. Viktor bent over again, kissing Yuuri’s chest. He flicked his tongue over a nipple, then grated his teeth over it gently, testing. Yuuri moaned and Viktor made a mental note.

Viktor ran his hands down and over Yuuri’s trousers, for the first time allowing himself to touch. He looked up at Yuuri to check his reaction, and Yuuri’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of pleasure. Viktor took Yuuri in hand through the fabric and began to rub. Yuuri threw his head back in pleasure and Viktor and Viktor bowed his head to leave loving kisses on Yuuri’s stomach. His head travelled down further and his lips stopped directly above the imposing bulge that faced him. He breathed, and Yuuri jolted at the heat of Viktor’s breath against his groin, even through the fabric.  
Viktor hooked his forefingers into the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers, and looked up at Yuuri once again, his eyes heavy-lidded and glittering through his fringe.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes… Vitya… please…”

Yuuri’s hips bucked, silently begging for Viktor’s touch.

Viktor slid the trousers down and Yuuri’s penis released with a bounce.  
Viktor moved his head in slowly, then placed a gentle kiss to the underside of the brown skin. Blood pulsed through Yuuri and he felt himself widen. Viktor’s tongue stroked a long line from the base of Yuuri’s length to the tip, then suddenly Yuuri’s head was enveloped in warmth as his fiancé’s lips closed around him. Viktor’s tongue was flat and waving over Yuuri’s foreskin, then suddenly the tip was circling the tip delicately and dipping into the loose flesh.  
Yuuri felt himself thrust his hips upward, almost involuntarily, and Viktor accepted Yuuri’s length. All of Yuuri disappeared into the warmth of Viktor’s mouth, and Viktor began now to gently suck. Yuuri clutched the bedsheets on either side of him tightly as Viktor moved his head, slowly and deliberately, up and down.  
Yuuri allowed himself to glimpse down at his lover. Viktor’s eyes were closed, his fringe fell messily (and incredibly attractively, Yuuri thought) over his face, the tip of his nose was red, and his cheeks slightly hollowed as his defined jaw worked.

Viktor shifted, changing the position of his arms, and Yuuri put his head back again. Then he felt a cold finger touching him, circling his entrance lightly. Yuuri was shocked, but he didn’t move, allowing Viktor to continue testing the limits.

Viktor moved his mouth from Yuuri and put his fingers in there instead, slicking them with saliva, before enveloping Yuuri’s length once again.  
Yuuri felt Viktor’s finger again, this time a light pressure at this entrance. Yuuri’s eyelashes fluttered, enjoying the sensation, and he tried to relax his body as much as he could. He wanted to welcome Viktor, he wanted Viktor to touch him, he wanted Viktor inside him.  
It must have worked, as the pressure increased and Yuuri felt a long, elegant finger slide inside.  
Yuuri had enjoyed this action by himself in the past, but it felt entirely different with Viktor. Viktor’s finger was long and slender, and Viktor knew exactly what he was doing. When he had entered Yuuri down to the knuckle, his digit curved and Yuuri moaned loudly as his fingertip pressed against his prostate.

He needed more.

“More… please…”

He pleaded, breathily. But Viktor was removing his finger and sitting up and leaning away… what was he doing? Yuuri’s eyes darted, panicked… what had he done?  
Viktor caught the look on his lover’s face and smiled warmly as his hand reached over and into the bedside drawer. He kissed Yuuri gently.

“You need to be comfortable, lyubov moya.”

He pulled a small bottle from the drawer and moved back down to take Yuuri in mouth. Yuuri didn’t see him do it, but Viktor had discreetly coated his fingers in the lubricant, and was now teasing two fingers against his entrance. Yuuri pressed down, coaxing Viktor in, and he obliged.  
Viktor worked his fingers into Yuuri, quickening the pace alongside the movements of his mouth, and Yuuri began to moan loudly.  
Yuuri was unravelling, coming apart at the seams. Everything was blurry and perfect and warm and he wanted to stay like this, being pulled apart by Viktor Nikiforov forever.  
Suddenly, Viktor’s mouth moved away with a slight pop.

“Prosti, Yuuri… I’m so close…”

What?

Viktor was panting, his fringe now stuck to his head with sweat. Viktor was fully clothed, he hadn’t even been touched, but as he rocked back onto his heels Yuuri saw a growing wet patch on his light grey trousers, his erection straining painfully against the fabric.

Yuuri’s stomach twisted. Viktor had never looked more gorgeous.  
Yuuri needed him.

He sat up quickly and made quick work of removing Viktor’s trousers, deftly freeing his penis. This time it was Yuuri searching for the lube (now lying nearby on the sheets) and quickly slicking it over his hand before coating Viktor’s length. He kissed his fiancé as he laid back down, pulling Viktor on top of him.  
He pulled his left leg up and placed it over the crook of Viktor’s right arm, then gripped Viktor’s base, guiding him to his entrance.

“Yuuri, are you sure?”

“Yes.”

No hint of hesitation in his voice this time.

Viktor pressed himself into Yuuri slowly, allowing Yuuri to adjust. Viktor moaned loudly and all of Yuuri’s muscles relaxed. He needed this man. He needed him fully. He needed him _right now.  
_ Yuuri pushed down onto Viktor and started to set pace.

“Yuuri… I’m so sorry… I don’t think I’m going to last long at all…”

Yuuri once again pulled Viktor down into a kiss, and Viktor began to thrust into his fiancé.  
Tears streamed down Yuuri’s face as he began to moan loudly. Viktor was bigger than he had expected. He was burning, but still he wanted more.  
Viktor looked down into Yuuri’s eyes, but he was too close and Yuuri couldn’t see. Viktor reached his hand up and removed Yuuri’s glasses, which Yuuri - lost in the moment - hadn’t even realised he was still wearing. That was better. He could see Viktor… perfect Viktor…  
His fiancé leaned his head down and their foreheads touched as Viktor continued to dive into him eagerly, chasing his own pleasure, their heavy breaths intermingling.

Viktor’s eyes were scrunching shut, almost in pain, and Yuuri could tell that he was close. His hands were grabbing hold of Yuuri’s raised legs, almost painfully.  
He wanted them to come together.  
Yuuri reached down and began to stroke himself.  
That was better.  
His hand gripped tightly, craving friction, as Victor’s thrusts caused him to move into his own fist.  
Yes, definitely better.  
Viktor’s pace increased.  
_Yes._  
He moved Yuuri’s leg just slightly, and then suddenly, he was hitting that bundle of nerves inside him.  
He was going to-

“Yuuri… I’m going to come…”

Yuuri cried out helplessly in pleasure.

“ _VITYA!!_ ”

Viktor had given one final thrust that hit Yuuri’s prostate hard and both men were coming, moaning hard as they looked into each other’s eyes.  
Yuuri felt Viktor pulsing inside of him as he rode out his orgasm.

 

————————————

 

It was barely half an hour later, and Viktor stood in the shower. The warm water coursed over the ripples of his muscles as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, and he couldn’t get the image of Yuuri out of his head.

Yuuri, screaming his name.  
Yuuri’s muscles clenching around him.  
Yuuri looking up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes that Viktor could get utterly lost in.

He was hard again.  
He tutted, cursing his body’s short refractory period.

Viktor wondered what would happen now.

He knew that that had been Yuuri’s first time.  
It felt like a huge responsibility was placed on him.  
He had _wanted_ for Yuuri for so long, spent so many nights thinking about the gorgeous Japanese skater as he touched himself, daydreamt about Yuuri’s pole dancing at the banquet at entirely inappropriate moments.  
But what would happen now?

Viktor loved the newness of relationships.  
He loved that period of hunger, of want… of not being able to keep hands off of each other… of making love every day, multiple times a day…  
But it was different with Yuuri. Not just because Yuuri had been a virgin. Not just because he was far more reserved than the other men Viktor had been with.

But because Viktor had never been in love before.  
And he was now.  
He was so in love with Yuuri Katsuki that it hurt.  
And now that he had tasted that part of him, he didn’t know if he could go back.

Suddenly there were fingertips on his hips.  
He had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed Yuuri join him.  
He smiled, amused and delighted that the usually shy Yuuri had taken such a bold move.

“Can I help you, Yuuri?” He asked playfully.

Yuuri didn’t answer, but snaked his hand around and grabbed Victor’s erection, pressing his own against the back of Viktor’s thighs. Viktor was shocked, and delighted.

“Again?” He chuckled.

“I don’t think I could stop now if I wanted to”, his fiancé said lowly.

And there was only one thing of which Viktor was certain in that moment.  
They were _not_ going to the rink in the morning.


End file.
